Nature feels
by girlwiththeheartballoon
Summary: Brittany's been wanting to do something with Rachel in the garden for a while now. Who cares that it's a billion degrees out?


**Frank Ocean gives me feels and there isn't enough berrypie in the world so i thought i'd give it a shot. Also, not exactly sure how i feel about this but meh, it's been sitting forever in my files and i thought why not just let it be in the world or whatever so, here.**

* * *

God, it's hot out.

"Hey, hon?"

And these stupid azalea's are not having it. She fingers one of the petals and sighs.

"Yeah?" Frowning once more at the flower, she turns her head at the happy voice, smiling at the rosy blush Brittany's face has taken on from attempting to get out of the hammock smoothly. She feels kind of bad for distracting the girl away from her nostalgic Pokémon game time but-

"Could you get me a glass of water, please?" her hands are full of dirt and if she stands up she won't come back to kneeling over the plants she _needs_ to save.

"I don't know…" A coy smile beams her way and she giggles lightly, "What would I get in return?"

She plays the coy game right back, licking her lower lip and tastes salt. Really, it's too hot. Which, _seriously?_ It's _April_, "A prize."

Brittany's eyebrows rise up, excitement in her eyes now. "Ooo, what kind of prize?"

She laughs at the genuine question, "I'll tell you if you go get me a glass of water."

"Ok!"

She shakes her head, eyes lingering a little too long on the nice butt running away from her, and then looks back down at the dry flowers. If this stupid heat wave doesn't go away soon, her poor plants will suffer and she'll be frustrated beyond belief because it's taken her so long (ok, so just a year.) to find gardening to be a nice little hobby, and she's damn sure the fucking weather wasn't going to ruin it. And she doesn't care what anyone says, gardening is _hard_, and she's worked her ass off for her backyard to look like a tropical paradise.

So, these plants will survive, sun be damned.

"Jesus," She huffs. The big, straw hat she has on isn't helping with keeping her somewhat cool at all. She chucks it to the side, ruffling her hair to air out her scalp.

"You look super hot when you do that."

"Oh!" Her forehead smacks Brittany's chin as she turns at the voice, surprised at the sudden proximity. Her wife was like a cat at times with how sneaky and quiet she could be, which she marveled at constantly because she was always stomping around and generally making noises out of nothing.

Brittany giggles this time and she pouts. "Oh, did I hurt you baby?" Soft, strong hands cup her cheeks and a thumb rubs at her chin soothingly.

Ok, so now she's flushing for a different reason. "Um, no, I'm fine." Being aroused right now is not going to help her try to get these flowers and her very, _very _hard worked for cherry tree from being dry and dying, so no. No, she was not going to let those eyes get to her right now. Forget the fact that it's been a few days since their last foray.

In between the seemingly never ending pile of work she has owning the chain of country clubs her dads left her with, and Brittany always having to attend to medical cases at the local penitentiary, they barely have time to even make out. Of course, that didn't mean they didn't _ever _have time for each other, it's just…

Well, now rescuing the flowers seemed way less important.

"Babe? Are you sure I didn't hurt you? You're all spacey." She blinks and Brittany grins at her, probably noticing now that she's been staring at her lips the whole time. "Oh."

"Oh?" Her eyes snap back to those wonderful blues and she feels a slight shiver run down her back. "You get that water for me, lovely?" She tries to get the playful mood back. An orgasm would be really nice, but it's honestly _just too fucking hot right now_. It makes her frown, but later it'll be cooler and she's banking on Brittany not getting a call because it's Sunday and those days are notorious for being free of inmates being stupid and trying to kill each other apparently.

"Yeah." Ok, so wifey was definitely not having the playful mood, or getting that this heat will kill them both if they even tried having sex right now. Her body doesn't seem to care either because she can feel her nether regions getting all hyped up.

She tries telling her brain to tell her vagina to cool it.

"Your cheeks are all red, rach," Brittany says, in _that_ voice.

Naturally, she gets wet.

"Damn it."

Really _not _what she meant, stupid ovaries.

Brittany quirks her eyebrow and she smiles cheekily, grabs the water from Brittany with a "Thank you, baby," and turns back to her azalea's.

"Don't I get my prize now?" It's a fucking whisper against her ear and she ends up dripping all the water over the same flower, _crap._ She grips the cup hard when soft lips latch onto her earlobe.

"Fu- _Britt._" Damn her for doing that. "We can't." Nonetheless, her free hand comes up behind her to hold Brittany there.

Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_

There's a nice little lick down her neck, "Why not?"

"Stop pouting."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Nuh uhh."

"Yes, _huh._"

She grabs the wandering hand down her side and turns, finds Brittany's eyes gleaming, and sighs. "Honey, as much as I'd like to, it's really- I'm _sweating_ and gross and its a hundred degrees out and my plants are dying, and I really want my garden to live through this."

"Oh! That reminds me…" Brittany's got something up her sleeve, she knows, because the cool fingers running through her hair feel much more sensual than they do relaxing and those pink lips are upturned in a way that is- _ah._

"_Baby," _her eyelids flutter at the light scratching on her scalp.

"I've been meaning to fuck you in the garden."

Her eyes pop back open, wide and wild, because Brittany did not just say that. Well, yeah she totally did, right against her lips too, eyes piercing her eyes all sexy like and _lusting, _but now is not the time! Her body betrays her even further because her breathing shifts to panting, the heat all too much not to start taking off her clothes now.

Really, who was she kidding?

She's never had a way to say no to her wife when it comes to anything, especially sex. So, her plants were definitely going to die.

"Jesus Brittany, you can't just say that-"

"It's true." She gulps when one of Brittany's hands slides down her back, pinky fingering the skin in between her white shorts and tank.

"It's so hot though." She knows her resolve is in the trash, she's just waiting-

"I wanna love you under the cherry leaves." She whimpers at the breathy confession and just like that, she's pushing against her wife, her teeth tugging at a bottom lip to open up. She's pictured herself fingering Brittany to the point of breaking under that tree so many times it's _ridiculous_.

Of course, it seems like she'll have to do that another day because right now it's Brittany's turn.

She can feel Brittany chuckling against her, no doubt noticing the hands flailing about because she forgot that she's got gloves on. Their kissing slows down enough for her to pay enough attention on getting them off.

"Come here," Brittany breathes. She stares down at the long fingers snatching the gloves out of her hands and throwing them to the side. Her breath hitches when she's abruptly gripped around the waist and hoisted up, prompted to wrap her thighs around hips that have done things to her she didn't even know possible.

"Baby…" It's such a nice, quiet Sunday, but the breathless whimper she lets out when Brittany stands up, further increasing the need for pressure between her legs as they open wider, reminds her that maybe they should put on some music so that the neighbors don't hear them.

Her head throws back in a sigh when Brittany responds by latching onto her neck. "Gonna lay you right on the grass," oh god, if she wasn't wet already, "give it to you over again, over again, and again." She is just _tingling_ now, and she needs pressure there like, _now._

"Britt, touch me…" Her neck probably has 50 different little hickeys now, but she doesn't even care that she has a meeting tomorrow with one of the country club boards. Brittany's lips sucking on her skin is something that she savors every second of everyday because those _lips_. She remembers when she only used to be able to daydream about them in college, wish about all the different places those lips could touch her.

And now they're hers.

A droplet of sweat rolls down her back and she shivers. She needs to strip but, what if the neighbors-

"Rachel, stop," Brittany chuckles, setting her down on the grass. Exactly under her soon to be dead cherry tree. Her eyes drop down to where Brittany's fingers are teasing her shirt up, the slight shade cooling her skin off only just a bit. "Just stop thinking for a little while."

The way it's whispered against her belly makes her whimper, makes her toes curl 'cause her center is tingling, just begging for a hand, knee, _something_ to put pressure on it. Her fingers curl around the grass around her head, waiting.

There's a nip around her ribs and she lifts herself slightly so that Brittany can take her shirt off. "Let me love you down, down, down…" singsongs against her lips, and damn those blue eyes and soft hands and- no! Her mind races back to when they were fooling around in the pool, and Billy, the little shit, went running off to tell daddy the ladies were trying to drown one another.

Nothing else needs to be said of that traumatizing event.

"I don't think the neighbors would appreciate this little show of ours should one of their kids jump too high on the blasted trampoline of theirs!" She all but hisses, absolutely trembling with need now that Brittany just does _not _give a flying twat about the neighbors and all but starts rubbing her through her shorts.

"Mm, I thought you liked performing?" she swats the side of her wife's hip. Brittany smiles and keeps working her shorts down, slowly, as if that would make her more certain about what's going on.

She's panting ridiculously now though, so the neighbors can see whatever they want, she could care less.

She lifts her hips and lets Brittany finally take her last piece of clothing off. Her sigh of relief stops short when she realizes Brittany has stopped touching her. She peers down to see what's going on, and gulps at the ravenous look being sent her way.

Well, it's being directed more at her nether regions than _her,_ really, but same thing.

"Honey?" She touches Brittany's lower stomach to snap her out of it, but only a low sound and murmur comes back as a response. "Um, are you ok? Are we still doing this, cause I thought for sure this was happening...? And if not, I'm down to the nines right now and I'd really like to put my clothes ba-"

"No, I- you're just-" Brittany smiles, finally, sliding her palms up her thighs and _hello_, there are those shivers again. Her fingers tug at the back of a blonde nape, wanting an explanation. Brittany, her lovely, beautiful, _thoughtful_ wife, stays where she is, just barely hovering over her, letting what little air that's occasionally passing by them cool them down so they don't catch on fire from over-arousal.

Brittany stares at her lips hard before kissing her, lips slowly going from soft to playful to hard and determined and then it's tongues and god, she, she needs _air_, but that means having to stop and she's not trying to do that but-

"When I took off your shirt and you weren't wearing a bra underneath, I knew, because well, how could I not? I'm a girl too, and your boobs are magical." She blushes underneath her wife's stare, whimpering at the teeth now playfully nipping at her right breast. "They call me." She lets out a chuckle at that, abruptly choking out a moan when long fingers suddenly slide right down past her stomach and clit, and go straight to her entrance. "But then I take off your shorts and you're not wearing undies..."

It's amazing what some things, after all these years, still take them by surprise. She doesn't wear underwear a lot, most of the time. Today just happened to be one of those days because of the heat. Nevertheless, the other day Brittany was wearing that one sports bra that makes her look just absolutely delicious (forget the fact that it's because she can see abs and skin and mmhm), and Brittany _must _know but, it gets her every time. Makes her want sex at that very moment.

She squeaks/moans, coming back to the present and eyes rolling back when Brittany's fingers slide into her, two steadily thrusting in and out. There's a cool lick over her clit, a light pressure, before she hears her voice again.

"You know, there are things you do that make me want to take my time with you, rub you and kiss you until you explode without me even touching your pulsing pussy,-"

"_Brittany, _fu- _shit."_ She's done that before though, _god, _she's done it a handful of times, fuck.

"Mm, I know, babe, I know. But then," She rises from her clit to give her a pop kiss and a long lick and suck at each breast before going back down. "There are other times," those magic fingers glide out of her and she whines, hips chasing after them. "Other times, like now, when you do something without even thinking about it that makes me go from loving to wild, and the cavewoman inside me just wants to _destroy_ you in the best way possible."

She gasps at the tongue swiftly entering her, fingers now rubbing her clit into oblivion, fast circles without delay and her back is arching like never before and _wow,_ it's a good thing they're doing this outside because they need all the air they can get.

"_jesus, _Britt, honey, _fuck!_" her sounds are coming out so high pitched she knows the neighbors have to know by now what's going on next door. She's not sure whether she wants to fondle her one breast not being touched by Brittany's hand, or to lace it through blonde hair to encourage her to never stop, but that question's answered when she remembers she has _two _hands.

She's starting to get warm, and that familiar tightening in her lower stomach is getting harder and harder to delay from release but, somethings gotta give and it's only when Brittany switches quickly to suck her clit and enter her with _three _fingers does she finally go wild.

Her loud moan, she swears on it, echoes throughout the quiet neighborhood and she can only run her hands through her hair when Brittany slows down to lap her up till she's not as sticky anymore.

This is definitely going to rank in her top thirty favorite orgasms, although she's not sure which ones she'll have to move around to make that happen.

She'll have to make a top forty.

"Britt, come on, I'm going to want another orgasm and it's your turn now so just," she raises a hand in the air lazily, feeling dead from the amazing sex that just happened, and motions for her to come lay beside her. "Give me like two seconds though."

Brittany, of course, adheres to that request for all of two seconds before she picks her up cavewoman style, thrown over the shoulder, and gives her a soft slap on the ass.

"Let me down, I'm naked! Think of the kids, Brittany!" her eyes zoom over to the fence to see if anyone's there, which to her surprise there isn't.

A quiet, little chuckle vibrates through her hip. "I maybe should have mentioned that they went on vacation for a while so that you wouldn't worry so much, but I figured you'd like the whole daring risk of it all."

See, this is why she married this woman.

She squeezes both of Brittany's perfect ass cheeks, and kisses her back through her thin tank top , "I love you so much."

There's another light chuckle before she feels them moving faster through the house,"Mhm, now let's go give me that orgasm in a much needed shower, boo."

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**yeh, like? no? mehhh**


End file.
